Текст книги "Sinner's Steel"
Автор книги: Sarah Castille
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Текущая страница: 6 (всего у книги 22 страниц)
“You want me to take her on my bike?” Shooter asked.
Alarmed at the way Zane’s hands curled into fists, Evie slid onto the pillion seat of his vivid black, Harley Night Rod Special. “This girl’s ass isn’t so precious that it can’t withstand a few teeth marks. Let’s ride.”
Zane turned his anger and outrage on her. “I’m teaching the prospect a lesson.”
“And I have a son waiting for me to pick him up.”
He glared at Shooter as he mounted his bike. “Clubhouse. One hour. And you better be standing on the drive with a repair kit in one hand and a squirrel pelt in the other. Fucking rodent disrespected my girl.”
Again with the “his girl.” But his insistence on protecting her even from hungry squirrels made her feel warm and tingly inside.
“Hold on tight, sweetheart.” He started his engine and the deep rumble vibrated through her body.
Oh, she’d hold on tight. But would she be able to let go?
SEVEN
There is no substitute for good information and a helping hand.
—SINNER’S TRIBE MOTORCYCLE REPAIR MANUAL
Zane hated the morgue.
And not because of the smell. He could handle the cloying scent of antiseptic. Even the underlying odor of death and decomposition. But what got to him was the sadness. There was never anything good waiting for the people who went through the heavy silver door leading from the waiting room to the identification area. And he would know. He’d been in the morgue too many times to identify the bodies of his brothers who had become collateral damage in the war against the Black Jacks.
This time, however, he and Jagger didn’t know if the body the police had found in an alley in the center of town was one of their own.
“You sure you guys want to see this? Like I said on the phone, he’s unrecognizable. Forensics is doing the ID through his teeth.” Deputy Sheriff Doug Benson led them into the low, brick building. Once an upright law enforcement officer, he had been brought down after a misguided attempt to save Cade’s old lady, Dawn—then Benson’s friend and love interest—from the biker world. Benson was now on the Sinner payroll, providing information and tips and the occasional assistance in exchange for keeping his body intact.
“If he’s one of ours, he deserves our respect.”
“Your call.” Benson pushed open the door to the waiting room. “One of the ambulance attendants … young guy … threw up when he saw him. Cause of death was … well, let’s just say he suffered multiple stab wounds on top of his multiple stab wounds. The patch was cut off his jacket and his tat was burned off his skin so we weren’t sure if he was a Sinner or a Jack.”
Benson cut himself off when they reached the waiting room. Four people sat on metal folding chairs in the stark, white room, faces pale and drawn as they waited to be called. No one ever cried in the waiting room; the tears always came after … when hope was gone and the world became a darker place. He’d been there. Not just after losing a brother, but after seeing Evie with Mark.
But now she was free. She might fight their attraction, but the chemistry was still there. He had felt her tremble against him, heard her sigh when he kissed her … So why had she pushed him away? If anyone had a right to be wary, it was him. After all, he had gone back for her. Just like he promised.
He would find out tonight. If she wasn’t home, he would find her. Although he had decided to go by his real name in the MC—executive board members were given the choice of using their road name or first name—he had come by his road name, Tracker, for his uncanny ability to find anyone, anywhere. Evie wouldn’t stay off his radar for long.
“Zane? You coming?” Benson ran a hand through his dark hair, and Zane followed the deputy’s lanky body, clothed in regulation police blue, into the chiller.
The large sterile room, a mix of white cabinets and steel counters, examination tables and fluorescent lights, smelled strongly of disinfectant, but even the sharp scent could not mask the sickly sweet stench of death.
The pathologist, a thin, nervous dude with a receding hairline, who had been on the Sinner payroll for years, wasted no time. He pulled open one of the steel drawers that lined the east wall. “You know him?”
Zane startled at the body, covered in a thin white sheet. Unrecognizable didn’t even begin to describe the swollen, battered face, but the arms and hands were remarkably unscathed, save for the long, thin scar on his right hand between two fingers. Familiar. “Turn him over.”
Jagger glanced up from the other side of the body. “You see something?”
The pathologist rolled the body to the side and Zane pointed to the scarring on the man’s left shoulder. “Isn’t that where we burned off Axle’s tat? And isn’t that scar on his hand from the night you put your knife through his fingers?”
“Fuck.” Jagger leaned closer to take a look. “You’re right. It is Axle. And lookit the “J” carved into his chest. He must have pissed Viper off. Damn. He owed us for what he did to Arianne and the club. I promised her I’d be the one to pull the trigger.”
“Hello.” Benson waved from the corner. “Law enforcement officer here. Let’s not have any threats or admissions in front of a witness that I might be forced to report.”
“You open your mouth and it will be you in this ice box,” Zane said evenly. “And you won’t look so pretty. How’s that for a threat?”
“As far as threats go, it has a certain deterrent factor that I can’t ignore,” Benson said dryly. “What do you want me to do with the body?”
“He was a Sinner and he died a Jack. He’s dead to us. Do whatever the fuck you want.” Jagger grabbed the pathologist’s clipboard and scrawled a name on it. “That’s his real name. Don’t know if he’s got any family, but if so, you can tell them he still owes us a debt.”
“That’s hardly fair—”
Jagger cut Benson off with a scowl. “When we choose this life, we choose it for our families, too. If he wasn’t prepared to take that risk, he never should have joined the club.”
Zane handed an envelope to the pathologist on their way out. Small payments to the local businesses smoothed the way for the Sinners to get things done quickly and quietly. Benson would get his envelope at the end of the month since he was now on a permanent Sinner retainer.
Shooter and Gunner were waiting curbside beside the bikes. Zane insisted on a security detail for Jagger whenever he left the clubhouse, but pride meant Jagger would accept their presence only on the pretense they were there to watch the bikes. Zane briefed them about Axle while Jagger called Arianne. Axle had threatened her life on more than one occasion and Jagger had promised her justice. Now, he owed her an apology.
Zane caught the reflection of sun in a mirror as he waited for Jagger to finish his call. The skin on the back of his neck prickled. What the hell? It was probably just a reflection from the vehicle behind the Jeep parked across the street, but the angle was wrong, and with the war on, they couldn’t be too careful. Especially not with the Sinner president out in the open and only three brothers to guard him. He’d tried to dissuade Jagger from coming out to the morgue, but Jagger wasn’t the type of man to sit still when there were things to be done.
“Gun. Shooter. Stay with Jagger. I’m just gonna check something out.”
“Get back, sir!” Shooter whipped his weapon from beneath his cut and slammed Jagger in the chest with his arm in an attempt to push him back from what he clearly assumed was an unseen threat to the president’s life.
“Christ, Shooter. I’m on the fucking phone.” Jagger shoved his arm away.
Damn overzealous prospect was in for one hell of a beating when they got back to the clubhouse. No one touched the president, and especially not a prospect who hadn’t even earned the right to wear a Sinner patch.
Zane crossed the street to the fading cacophony of curses and Gunner’s sharp admonishments. He kept to the grassy verge of the sidewalk, and beneath the trees along the edge of the park that fronted the morgue. He made his way past the Jeep, and stopped when he saw a biker between two parked cars, peering out into the street, his Black Jack patch on display.
Son of a bitch. Zane withdrew his weapon and bit back a growl. Conundrum was Sinner turf. Black Jacks were not just unwelcome, but risked death if they chose to cross the border. He aimed his weapon, a Sig Sauer P226, just as the biker leaned back in his seat, giving Zane a clear view of the top rocker on his cut, “Property of Viper.”
Well damn. Not a he, but a she. Viper’s old lady. Had she come to see the body or was she watching the Sinners? Not that it mattered. Aside from Viper himself, or one of the Black Jack executive board members, there was no greater prize.
With his weapon aimed and ready, he came up behind her bike, then veered slightly to the side. He tensed, then lunged, wrapping one arm around her throat while he pressed the gun to her head.
“Don’t move, princess.”
She stiffened, pressing her head against his chest to relieve the pressure on her throat. When she looked up, her soft brown eyes pleading, Zane’s stomach twisted. She was younger than he thought, early twenties if he had to guess, and pretty, if you liked long, platinum blonde hair and a truckload of makeup. Young for Viper, who had to be in his late forties, too young to be taken prisoner, but he’d made his decision and damned if he would go back on it.
“Off the bike. Nice and slow. Hands out front where I can see them.”
She complied with his instructions, her body shaking, but she didn’t put up a fight and minutes later he had her in front of Jagger.
Jagger looked down at the prisoner, bemused. “What’s this?”
“Present from Viper. Looks like he sent us his old lady.” Zane released her throat, but kept his gun to her head while Gun called the clubhouse for transport.
“Welcome to Conundrum, love.” Jagger grinned.
Her face paled when she saw Jagger’s “president” patch, but damned if she stood her ground. “I was on my way to see my sister in Hardin. Took a wrong turn. Didn’t mean to wind up here.”
“But you did and it would be bad manners if we didn’t offer you some hospitality, Sinner style.” Zane led her into the alley beside the morgue to wait for the cage. Gunner patted her down. As expected, she was armed—two guns, three knives, and a throwing star—Viper’s old lady was no shrinking violet and she knew better than to scream for the police..
“So…” Zane stared at the patch on her cut. “Doreen. You’re Viper’s old lady.” A statement, not a question, and not something she could deny since she wore Viper’s patch on her back.
“What if I am?” She looked up at him and glared. “You think you can use me as bait? Do you really think Viper is the kind of man to care about a fuck toy?”
“He gave you his patch. Makes you more than his fuck toy.”
“You don’t know shit about me or Viper.” Doreen morphed from helpless young woman into hard biker bitch in a heartbeat. “Just do what you’re going to do. I’m tired of yapping with you morons.”
Jagger grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her head back. “Respect, love. You’re in Sinner territory now. I’m not inclined to hurt a woman, but Zane here—”
“Yeah, I know about him.” She cut Jagger off and turned to face Zane. “You’re the one who shot Axle in the leg up in Whitefish. And I know you’re after Viper’s girl. Axle saw you together before he…” She choked up and looked away, a strange reaction given she was Viper’s old lady.
“The cut says you’re Viper’s girl.” Jagger’s lips twisted in a smile. “Or has he started a harem?”
“I’m payment for Axle’s debts. So whatever you think you’re going to get outta holding me, it’s not going to happen. He won’t give a damn. And the only man who did is lying in that morgue.”
Zane and Jagger shared a glance, and Zane frowned. “You were Axle’s old lady?”
“Went to pay my respects to my old man and you damn Sinners snatched me.” Tears welled up in her eyes. “Viper will kill me if he finds out I came here. So if you take me, do me a favor and kill me. Don’t leave me to his mercy.”
Zane’s mind whirled as he tried to put the pieces together. Was she talking about Evie? Was Viper the reason Evie couldn’t see him tonight? Or was Doreen talking about one of the other women he’d seen over the past week? Damned if he could keep track. “What girl are you talking about? I got lots of girls.”
“I’m sure you do, looking the way you look,” Doreen said. “But that information will cost you. I want to see Axle before they take him away. I want to say goodbye.”
Jesus Christ. The bitch had balls of steel. “Not gonna happen.”
“Then I guess you gotta call up all the girls you’ve been with and ask them if they’ve got the hots for Viper. Or you could just wait for Viper to take you out, ’cause he knows you touched her, and he doesn’t like anyone messing with his property.”
His property? But how could Evie be with Viper? He was the antithesis of everything Evie stood for—a normal, comfortable civilian life. It made no sense. She had her son and a job and a life in Conundrum. From what he could see, she was happy. No way would Evie go out with an outlaw biker. Or was she still after the adrenaline rush she’d used to fill the emptiness in her life?
“Well then he’ll be happy to pay to see your pretty face again.” Zane folded his arms and leaned against the brick wall. The alley had the same sickly sweet disinfectant scent of the morgue, and his nose wrinkled. Death definitely had a smell. “How about you give us some more information about this woman I have that Viper wants, and I’ll give you my word you’ll make it through this alive?”
“Viper gave me his word, too.” Her bottom lip trembled, belying her bravado. “He said he’d let me go after Axle died. Instead I got this cut and the pleasure of being chained to his bed.”
Zane smoothed his face, hiding his surprise. An old lady cut was akin to a civilian wedding ring, a sign of commitment, not bondage. “I’ve never broken my word.”
She studied him intently and then she smirked. “The redhead from Big Bill’s shop. Only reason I came to Conundrum today is because Viper is away tonight. He’s meeting her at a bar in Red River, since he can’t come into town.”
He didn’t need to look at Jagger. They’d been through this drill before. Protecting Evie. It was what they had always done. “Jag, you got Evie’s number?”
“I’m on it.” Jagger bashed the screen on his phone, waited. “No answer.”
“I’ll head out to Red River.” He walked down the alley, his heart thudding in his chest. Evie and Viper. Christ. And he’d thought Mark was no good for her.
“Gun can take over here. I’ll go check Evie’s house.” Jagger hesitated, called out. “Zane … she might not be happy to see us.”
Zane kept walking. “She never was, but we saved her anyway.”
EIGHT
Things are going to go wrong when you’re dealing with complex machinery. Don’t give up. Just do a better job each time you try.
—SINNER’S TRIBE MOTORCYCLE REPAIR MANUAL
“Well, look at you.” Connie looked over her shoulder from her seat on Evie’s couch and put down her video game controller. Beside her, Ty groaned.
“You’re dead. Now I have to reset.”
Evie grimaced at Connie’s slow perusal of her date-night outfit, a sleeveless black sheath dress that buttoned up the back, knee-high boots, a silver chain belt, and chunky silver earrings. The neckline of the dress dipped low, but not too low, showing only a hint of cleavage.
“Nice with a naughty twist,” Connie concluded. “Old Vipe’s gonna have a heart attack when he sees you. But then that’s the problem with dating an old man.”
“He’s in his mid-forties. That’s not old. He was in his late teens when his daughter, Arianne, was born. Same age as I was when I had Ty.” She straightened a pile of magazines on the glass table behind the couch. She and Ty had chosen glass and beige leather when they decorated the living room to brighten up the small space. Ty had picked out a few shaggy beige cushions and a matching area rug that were a nightmare to clean, but he said they reminded him of the sheep from his favorite video game, and she didn’t have the heart to refuse.
“Maybe he’s after you because he’s having a midlife crisis.” Connie picked up her controller, turning her focus to the screen. “Although what do bikers do when they have a midlife crisis? They already have the young girls, fast cars, and hot bikes. Maybe they buy a minivan and waist-high jeans, slip on some socks and sandals, get an office job, and start mowing the lawn.”
“You’re dead again, Connie.” Ty fist pumped the air. “You want to start again or play something else?”
Connie stood and ruffled his hair. “How about a board game? You know about those things? From the prehistoric age? They don’t have a controller and no one dies a painful death, especially me. Just good, clean, old fashioned fun.”
“I think I’ve got one of those.”
“Now who’s sounding old?” Evie laughed as Ty raced to his room.
“Wish I was coming along on your date,” Connie said wistfully. “My dry spell is getting drier every day and I’m guessing Vipe’s not gonna show without his mouthwatering biker posse to keep him safe. Maybe I could have some Black Jack fun. Although Tank was kinda cute. And he gave me his number.”
“I might end it with him tonight,” Evie said, fiddling with the links in her belt. “That’s why I picked this dress. I thought maybe he’d change his mind about me. I like him, but the whole shooting thing outside the shop scared me. And Zane … I mean it’s over between us, but if he’s going to be part of Ty’s life, things could get complicated since they’re from rival clubs. I just don’t know what to do.”
“If you were going for the matronly look, you haven’t succeeded. You’d look hot wearing a burlap sack.” Connie lifted an over-tweezed eyebrow. “And do you really think a man like Viper hasn’t already figured out what you’ve got going under that dress? Or that he isn’t interested when he sends one of his men to set up a date? If you don’t want to see him anymore, you’ll need to tell him flat out, otherwise I don’t think he’ll be turned off by the way your boobs are busting out all over the place.”
Evie glanced over at the hallway leading to Ty’s room and lowered her voice. “They aren’t busting out.”
“Honey, if I flipped a coin at your chest, it would definitely get stuck between your girls. With me, on the other hand, that baby would sail right through my nonexistent cleavage, bounce off the floor, and come up and hit me in the chin.”
“Now I think I’m too dressed up.” Evie sighed. “I’ve never been to the Riverside Bar. What if it’s a rough, dress-down kind of place?”
Connie put a hand on her hip and sashayed toward the door. “I think you should work it. If you decide you want him, he’ll be drooling all over the floor. If you don’t want him, he’ll never forget you. Either way, you’ll leave an impression. Although, I have to say, the couple of times he came into the shop, he didn’t strike me as a man who took ‘I don’t want to see you any more’ for an answer. And since you’re not interested in getting involved with Zane again, he’s your best option for getting a little biker down ’n dirty.”
And wasn’t that part of the reason Evie had agreed to see him the first time? After years of dealing with Mark’s insecurities, there was something utterly compelling about a man who dripped power and confidence. She had been flattered by his attention, intrigued by his charm, and slightly awed by the fact he had so many men to do his bidding.
A tiny part of her had thrilled at having captured his interest, and there was no danger of getting caught in the trap of thinking her relationship with Viper was anything more than a fling. Viper was a statement to herself that she’d gotten over the emotional abandonment issues that had driven her to seek safety and security with Mark despite knowing he was wrong for her. She could look after herself, face the world on her own terms. And what better way to prove it than to play with the biggest baddest biker in town?
But that was before Zane returned. He was everything that had attracted her to Viper, but without the ruthless edge. Where Jagger and Viper wore their power for all to see, Zane commanded respect without the show. She’d seen how his biker brothers deferred to him, and how even Jagger looked to him for advice. Not that she wanted to get involved with Zane. Even though she now knew he’d returned to Stanton, he was three years too late, and he wasn’t there when she needed him. But more than that, he had broken her heart.
In his own way, Zane was as dangerous as Viper, and his very presence cast Viper in a new light.
“It’s not like we’re in a real relationship.” She pulled out the elastic from her ponytail and ran her fingers through her hair. “We don’t text or talk to each other every day. We haven’t slept together … just kissed.” Perfectly adequate kisses, considering the scratchy beard, the rough lips, and the fact he always seemed amused when he backed away.
“Then he’ll be all over you tonight.” Connie smirked. “Biker presidents aren’t known for their restraint. He probably didn’t know how to handle a civilian at first. Better bring some condoms ’cause I’ll bet he’ll be wanting more than a kiss tonight.”
Viper’s kiss. So unlike Zane’s kiss.
Oh, God. That kiss. Fueled by desire, filled with passion, Zane’s kiss had been deliciously hard and hungry. He had taken everything she had to give and demanded more. After her shower this morning, Evie had inspected the bruises he left on her skin, remembering how it felt to be held tight, totally and utterly claimed, if only for a moment. The spark was still there between them, but now, when her heart had finally healed and she had moved on with her life, he wasn’t the right guy for her. She couldn’t control a man like Zane. Or maybe the problem was that she couldn’t control herself around him.
So maybe she was better with second best.
A loud knock on the front door startled her and she peered out the window into the twilight, spotting the motorcycle parked on the street only seconds before Jagger shouted from outside.
“Evie. It’s Jagger. Gotta talk to you.”
She pulled open the door and he brushed past her, stalking into the house before she could speak.
“You with Viper, Evie? Is it true?” His gaze traveled down her body, taking in her outfit, and he scowled. “That where you’re going tonight? You’re meeting the fucking president of the fucking Black Jacks?”
Evie closed the door, taking a minute to compose herself before she whirled around. “Not that it’s any of your damn business, but yes.”
“Jesus Christ.” He scrubbed his hand over his face. “All those bastards we saved you from in high school, and you’ve still going for the most dangerous fucking scum of the earth. Except Viper’s not just dangerous. He’s lethal. He’ll fucking chew you up and spit you out if he doesn’t kill you first.”
“Don’t patronize me, Jagger.” She folded her arms and leaned against the door, her cheeks heating in anger, only vaguely aware of Connie in the hallway behind her. “I’m a grown woman now and I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself. I know who Viper is and he’s never been anything but kind to me.”
“Kind?” Jagger’s lips curled in disgust. “Kind is not in Viper’s vocabulary. Zane’s gonna go out of his fucking mind when he finds out that Black Jack bitch wasn’t lying.” He pulled out his phone but before he could type out his text, his eyes widened, and his mouth dropped open in a manner unbecoming an outlaw biker president. “Holy. Fucking. Shit.”
Evie didn’t need to turn around to know the reason for his outburst, and it was too late to undo what had been done. Damn. She wasn’t ready for this. The timing was off. She hadn’t prepared or even thought about what to say. And really, Zane should have been the first to know.
“Hell, Evie. Tell me he isn’t—”
“He is.” She held out her hand to her son. “Ty. This is mom’s friend, Jagger. And Jagger, this is Ty.”
“Jesus Christ.” Jagger ran a hand through his hair. “He looks just like him.”
“He swears,” Ty said with delight. “Just like a real biker.” He ran to the kitchen and returned with the glass jar Evie had designated as their swear jar to curb the bad language Ty was learning at school. “You owe four quarters. Or does Jesus Christ count as two swears?”
“Ty!”
“I was just saying what he said.”
“Hey, Ty. How about we go find that board game so mom and her friend can talk.” Connie took the jar from Ty and led him down the hallway to the bedroom.
Jagger let out a long breath and then sat heavily on the couch, taking up the bulk of the space with the vast spread of his long legs. “Zane doesn’t know, does he?”
“He left Stanton before I even knew I was pregnant.” Evie sagged against the wall. “He told me he would come for me. And when I found out about the baby, I tried to find him. I didn’t believe he killed my dad like everyone said. I waited, kept trying to find him, but after a while I lost faith. He’s still wanted by the police, Jagger. There’s a warrant out for his arrest.”
Jagger leaned forward on the couch, dropping his hands between his legs. “I know about the warrant. He told me about it when he joined the club because he was worried it would come back on the MC. He had changed his last name, got fake ID, grew his hair. I didn’t give a damn. I know Zane and I didn’t need the details. Neither did the brothers. The club protects him now.”
Evie sighed and twisted a loose strand of hair around her finger. “No wonder I couldn’t find him. I tried everything, even got child services involved on the basis he wasn’t paying child support just because I thought they’d have more resources to track him down. Then my mom died and I was so alone. I had to sell the house to cover the debts. I was struggling, and I had to accept that Zane wasn’t coming back. Then I bumped into Mark.”
She didn’t tell him the rest—Mark’s insecurities and controlling behavior, the drinking, the affairs, the money problems, and the night she finally had enough—not just because she knew it would anger Jagger, but because she was embarrassed that she’d stayed so long.
Jagger shifted on the couch. “You have to tell him, Evie.”
Her mouth opened then closed again. Yes, she had to tell him, and if Ty got hurt, she would help him through it and they would move on. But now that she’d spent more time with Zane, she wondered if that was really a concern. He’d been outraged at the thought Mark hadn’t been there for his son …
“Evie.” Jagger’s deep voice echoed in the small space.
“Yes, of course. I just … I want it to be right. I’ve been worried Zane wouldn’t want to be involved and I don’t want Ty to get hurt.”
“You think he wouldn’t want to be involved? That’s his son.” Jagger stood and paced the room. “All these years he’s been talking about a woman who betrayed him, a woman who broke his heart—although he never said it in so many words. I never imagined it was you. I never even thought you and he … I thought we were all just friends.”
“We were. At least until that one night when Zane and I suddenly realized we were more.” She bit her lip, her forehead creasing in worry. “Do you think he’ll want to be a part of Ty’s life? I mean, you guys don’t really live a family-friendly lifestyle.”
“Do you really need to ask that question?” Jagger’s voice thickened. “Despite the shit he went through at home, he was always there for us. He even dragged me out of bed one night to rescue you from that heavy metal guitar player who lured you to his trailer … Derek. Zane called him Derek the Dick.”
Evie’s stomach tightened at the memory. Derek had been wild and exciting, irreverent and cool. All the girls in high school wanted the talented frontman and he picked her. She hadn’t even stopped to think what might happen in that trailer after the concert when Derek invited her to join him and the rest of the band. But, of course, Zane had known and he came to her rescue.
“Zane flew across the ocean using a fake passport to save me,” Jagger continued. “Even though he was wanted by the police. I was dying in a fucking hospital bed and he came to give me a kick in the ass so I would get on with my life. He’s had my back since the day we met. There is no man I trust more than Zane. No man more loyal. And once he finds out about Ty, nothing will tear him away.”
“I don’t know if I want Ty involved in your life, Jagger. It’s dangerous.”
Jagger pulled out his phone. “It’s too late to make that choice. He is involved because Zane is involved. You know my views, but I won’t push you. Do I tell Zane you’re safe and arrange to meet him at the clubhouse, or do I tell him to come here?”
“Mom?” Ty appeared in the hallway. “Can I play my game again?”
Evie smiled at Ty, the spitting image of his father, and let out a ragged breath. “Tell him to come. I’ll get Ty ready.”
* * *
Hope was his friend once more.
Zane pulled up in front of Evie’s house and nodded to Shooter and Tank, keeping watch as he’d instructed while their president was inside. He’d been at the far edge of town when he got Jagger’s message that Evie was safe at home.
He dismounted his bike, wondering what he was going to say. This wasn’t high school. He couldn’t grab Viper in the locker room and threaten to dismember him if he went near Evie again. He couldn’t stop Evie from seeing him if that’s what she wanted to do. Hell, he didn’t really know her any more. He didn’t know if she still preferred running outdoors to spending time in the gym. He had no idea if she still liked her pizza with anchovies and olives, or if she liked pizza at all. What did she do when she wasn’t at work? How did she look after her boy alone? How often did Mark show up to see him? Why the hell had she married Mark, and what the fuck was she doing with Viper?
The door opened before he could knock, and Jagger blocked his way. “Brother…” He hesitated, his face a curious mix of sympathy and pain. “I’m not goin’ anywhere. I’ll be right outside. You need me, I’m here. You need to ride, we’ll ride.” He gestured behind him and Connie slipped past, giving Zane a wan smile.
